


In My Blood

by luckydip



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckydip/pseuds/luckydip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So far he’d avoided anyone getting too close. All he had to do was keep out of sight and get through the day. Dean drew his knees up against his chest and hoped that no-one would notice him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kansas, March 1983

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and tried to warm himself up. This new place was cold and one of the guards had taken his jacket before pushing him into the back of the trailer. The guards had tossed some blankets in after them but Dean wasn’t quick enough to grab one. The sun was going down and he knew it would only get colder. 

He wanted to cry, to shout until someone listened and let him inside, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Crying made the guards angry and Dean really didn’t want to do that again. Dean let his head drop to rest on his knees as he shivered and wished from someone to come and take him somewhere safe.

“Hey.” Someone whispered from nearby. Dean looked up to see a woman smiling at him. “You cold?”

Glancing to the front to check if the guards had noticed them talking, Dean nodded.

“Come here.” The woman beckoned. Dean scrambled to his knees and crawled over, trying to avoid the stare of the guards and the legs of the others crammed into the trailer. She lifted the corner of her blanket and let him curl up underneath. 

“Waste of time, that.” Dean heard someone mutter.

The woman pulled Dean up against her. “He’s just a kid, Joe.”

“Exactly. Not like he’s gonna make it anyway.”

“You don’t know that.” She hissed back.

“Then he’ll wish he hadn’t. By the time they’re done with him.”

Dean didn’t know what Joe meant but it didn’t sound good. He tried to look over the blanket but the arms around him tightened. 

“Just leave him alone.” 

Joe must have listened because he didn’t say anything else. Dean huddled under the blanket to hide from the cold and finally try to sleep.

*

It was light by the time the trailer stopped. Dean woke up to a guard snatching back the blanket and ordering him to his feet. The guard grabbed hold of Dean’s arms and pushed a plastic circle over his wrists. When he let go, Dean gave his hands a tug, but the plastic was tight and he couldn’t move them. Panicking, he looked around for the woman from last night but she’d been pulled away.

“Move it.” The guards forced them all off the trailer and towards the market they had arrived at. 

It was harder to walk with his hands stuck together and Dean fell behind the group, nearly tripping as he rushed to keep up. One of the guards came up behind him and Dean cringed, desperate not to be punished, but he was just grabbed around the waist and carried the rest of the way. 

They reached the market and a fenced off stall that the others were all herded into. The guard leaned over and dropped Dean into the pen with the rest of them. He pushed himself back up, coughing as dust from the floor ended up in his mouth. Once he was up, Dean made his way to a corner and crouched down. This way, he had discovered, few people noticed he was there, and that was fine with him. The markets may have been bad, he was always cold with never much to eat but it was nothing compared to the stories he’d heard from the others about being owned. 

So far he’d avoided anyone getting too close. All he had to do was keep out of sight and get through the day. Dean drew his knees up against his chest and hoped that no-one would notice him. 

Glancing up at the people walking passed; Dean froze as he saw a man watching him. The man was tall, dark-haired and Dean backed a little further into the corner, mindful of the wire fence. The man looked down at him and scratched his beard thoughtfully for a moment before indicating that Dean should stand.

Dean rushed to obey, pushing himself to his feet with his tied hands as the man came right up to the fence. Dean locked his knees to stay upright and tried not to tremble as the man crouched down to his level and checked him over; but much more gently than Dean had seen happen to the others. The man ruffled his hair and the action eased some of his panic. Maybe this owner wouldn’t be as bad as the ones he’d heard about.

“What’s your name, kid?” It was a deep voice, but not threatening. Although Dean still struggled not to shake as he answered. 

“Dean.”

The man nodded. “Hang tight, Dean, I’ll be right back.”

Dean stayed standing and watched as the man found the nearest guard and spoke with him. They disappeared for a few minutes but Dean didn’t quite dare move until the man came back and beckoned Dean to follow him. 

More than just a little nervous, Dean tried to run to keep up with man’s longer legs, not wanting to make him mad and be punished so quickly. But since he’d not really moved or eaten all day, his legs were weak and they gave out beneath him.

Dean flinched when the man stopped and came back to stand over him, afraid of what punishment might be coming. Except nothing did. The man just bent down, slipped an arm around Dean, lifted him off the ground and carried him through the rest of the crowded market.

They stopped by a car parked nearby. It was black and shiny, nicer than anything Dean had ever seen. The man opened the back door and put Dean down on the seat. Dean’s cuffed hands dropped to his lap and the movement caught the man’s eye.

He frowned and took hold of Dean’s hands. “You’re not going to run, are you Dean?”

“No, sir.” Dean shook his head quickly. He knew what happened if you ran, the guards made sure of it. He’d seen those they’d brought back and shuddered at the memory.

“Good.” The man bent down a pulled a knife out of his boot. 

Dean panicked and tried to pull back but the man didn’t let him go. “Sir?”

“Just hold still.” 

With nowhere to go, Dean just squeezed his eyes shut and waited for whatever the man was going to do. He could be strong, he could. He felt a brief tug on his wrists and then the man let him go. Dean slowly opened his eyes to see the man putting the plastic ties and the knife away. Once he was done and caught Dean looking, he smiled. 

“Better?” Dean nodded. “Good. Now get in and belt up.” Dean pushed himself into the seat and then stopped, not knowing what the rest meant. Thankfully, the man just pulled the black seatbelt from beside him and handed it to Dean, telling him how to snap it in on the other side.

Once Dean had managed to get the seatbelt into place with shaking fingers he tugged on it anxiously. He was happy to find that it lengthened under his grip, so it was possible to get out if he needed to. 

Nodding, the man closed the door and got into the front seat, starting the car and driving off quickly, though for the first time, Dean didn’t have to grab hold of something or someone whilst in a moving vehicle.

A combination of the warmth that built up in the car and the softness of the leather seats, Dean started to find it hard to keep awake but he fought against sleep and watched the view from the window to keep himself up.

The countryside merged into a suburban area as they approached the more built-up sections of Kansas. Dean watched all of the signs through the window; even though he couldn’t read them, and he didn’t dare ask the man to. By the time they pulled into the driveway of a house it was almost dark. The man got out of the car, telling Dean to stay where he was, and headed for the front door. 

Dean watched through the window as the door opened and a small, large lady appeared. She looked like she was shouting at the man. They had a short conversation before the lady disappeared and Dean pulled his seatbelt loose so he could kneel up to the window, putting his face so close to it that his nose pressed up against the glass for a slightly better view as the lady returned. From his new angle, Dean could make out her dark skin and black hair. She’d returned with a bundle that Dean couldn’t identify as it was passed to the man who held it carefully in his arms as he turned back towards the car.

As the man walked, the lady looked towards the car, and waved a hand at Dean even though it was too dark for her to be able to see him, and startled Dean fall backwards onto the seat, and tangling himself in the seatbelt, then struggling to get back in the seat before the man noticed. 

He just managed it, but was panting slightly, so he kept his head down as the front door opened and the man strapped the bundle into the front seat before they drove off again.

Dean wanted to know the contents of the bundle, but back at the markets, any questions had always been met with sharp punishment so Dean fought the urge to lean forward and look. He sat back in the seat and reminded himself of all the things the others had told him. Do what you’re told. Keep out of the master’s way. Be strong. 

After driving for what seemed like forever, Dean finally dropped off, his head falling forward onto his chest.

He was awakened some time later to someone putting a hand on his shoulder. Flinching, Dean tried to get away and the hand let him scramble backwards. He met the gaze of the man who had taken him from the market earlier and remembered where he was.

“C’mon, Dean.” The man stepped back so Dean could jump down and follow him, on his own feet this time, into a motel room. 

He wasn’t given much time to look though, the man grabbed a plastic bag from one of the beds and steered him into the bathroom. 

The bathroom was small, but clean and Dean had never seen anything like the shower before. Back at the market, it had always been buckets of cold water and Dean knew he didn’t like that. He stepped back against the door, knocking it closed as the man switched the water on. 

The man pulled Dean forward, and quickly stripped him. Dean wrapped his arms around himself protectively. “Get in, Dean. You smell like death.” 

Nervously, Dean edged forwards and tentatively put a hand under the water. He gasped when he realised that it was warm. Behind him, the man made an impatient noise and Dean nearly tripped in his effort to get into the shower. 

The man passed him a flannel and helped Dean to get clean. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d been properly washed, or being allowed to use warm water. It made him feel good and Dean was disappointed when the shower was turned off. The man held up a towel for him to step into, and when Dean was wrapped up in it, the man used one corner to rub his hair dry. 

He was given clean clothes from the plastic bag to change into, and then the man led him back into the main room and told him to sit on one of the beds. The man handed him a mug and sat down on the edge of the bed opposite him. “Drink up.”

The mug was full of a white liquid that Dean didn’t recognise. He was nervous, but the man hadn’t hurt him yet and he’d not eaten since yesterday so Dean took a sip. It was cold, but didn’t taste bad so he gulped down the rest and then held the empty mug tightly in his hands.

“Look at me, Dean.” 

Dean glanced up and met the man’s eyes.

“How old are you?” 

He wasn’t sure of the answer so he just shrugged. The man didn’t seem happy with that and Dean fought the urge to hide. “If I ask you a question, you need to answer in words, understand?”

Nodding, Dean replied quietly, “Yes, sir.” Then as an afterthought, he added, “I don’t know how old I am.”

The man sighed. “What do you remember before the markets?”

Before? There was no before, at least not as far back as Dean’s memory went. It was all he’d ever known. The man was waiting for an answer so he shook his head. “Nothing.”

A dark looked passed across the man’s face and Dean flinched. “Sorry, sir.” 

“No, Dean, you did the right thing.” The man prised the mug out of Dean’s fingers and set it down on the side. “I won’t stand for lying, you hear me?”

Dean nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I think you’ll do just fine.” 

The man ruffled his hair again, and Dean smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

“Right, I guess I better show you what you’ll be doing.” The man stood and walked to the other side of the bed. 

Dean wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he nervously made his way to where the man was standing, but it wasn’t a small wooden crib with a baby lying in it. He leaned over the edge at the sleeping child. 

“My name is John Winchester, and this is my son, Sammy. He’s the reason that you’re here, Dean.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Stanford, California, October 2005_

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way back to the house. He’d left Jess and Luis back at the bar drinking, claiming that he needed an early night to study for Monday’s interview. It was a valid reason – he couldn’t afford law school without a scholarship and acing the interview was the only way to secure one. On top of that, he’d been plagued by nightmares for the past few nights and there was only so much that coffee could make up for a good night’s sleep.

And if he happened to miss out on Halloween as well? Then that was just a bonus.

Luis had mocked him for bailing on them so early but Jess had let him off with a kiss and the promise that he’d make it up to her once he’d scored that full ride. Sam smiled to himself; hopefully the ring he’d been hiding with his weapons in the back of the closet would count. He just needed to plan the right moment to ask the question.

As he turned the last corner to the house, Sam could make out a police van parked on the street outside. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach and he forced down a spark of fear that someone had managed to uncover his past. Four years and so far no-one had suspected a thing. Sam had been so careful to make sure that no-one had ever had a reason to.

Any vague hope he’d had that they were here for someone else was squashed when he spotted two cops standing outside his door. Flashing his finely tuned ‘law abiding citizen’ smile, Sam called out to them as he stepped off the sidewalk. “Can I help you, officers?”

They turned to face him, the older of the two speaking first. “We’re looking for a Sam Winchester.”

“I’m Sam Winchester, is there a problem?” Sam fought to keep what he hoped looked like innocent concern on his face.

“You got any ID?” The other officer asked.

“Sure.” Sam fumbled briefly in his pocket and pulled out his driver’s license which he handed over. 

“Thank you.” The older officer, Johnson according to his badge, checked it and nodded before handing it back. “We need you to take a look at something, Mr Winchester, would you follow us?” He gestured towards the parked van.

The younger officer directed him towards the back of the van. Sam followed; his hackles rising as he spotted flecks of dried blood splattered across the officer’s knuckles as he unlocked the van door. 

His hunter’s instincts kicked in and Sam clenched his fists, bracing for a fight. He might have been out of practise but he could still take down two people if he had to, long as they were only human. Even the holy water was stashed with his weapons, too far out of reach to do any good.

Clearly oblivious to Sam’s thoughts, the officer swung open the door of the van and shone his flashlight inside. There was someone stashed inside, propped up against the back wall, head bowed with their arms pulled behind them. 

All thoughts of fighting disappeared as Sam suddenly recognised the figure. “Dean?”

The figure raised his head, squinting at the sudden brightness. He looked older than Sam remembered, and he had a split lip that Sam had a nasty feeling matched up with the blood on the officer’s hands, but it was definitely Dean. 

Dean’s eyes flicked up and met Sam’s briefly before he dropped his gaze and nodded. “Yes, Master Sam.” 

Aware that he was being watched, Sam bit down on his usual discomfort at the title and turned back to Johnson. “What happened?”

“Got picked up along the Nevada border, crossing state lines unaccompanied. Said that he’d been sent to you?” Johnson looked over to him for confirmation. 

“Yeah. My Dad travels a lot for work, he sends Dean to me if he’s going to be away for a while.” Sam kept the explanation deliberately vague and just hoped it matched up with the story Dean had told them. 

“You know that it’s not permitted to send slaves across state lines alone?” 

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sam didn’t have to fake his earnest assurances. This could quite easily turn ugly, particularly for Dean if the police even suspected that he’d been running from Sam. He’d seen what happened to escaped slaves once they’d been tracked down by bounty hunters, and he wasn’t going to let them get their hands on Dean.

“See that it doesn’t. “ Thankfully, Johnson didn’t seem to be taking it any further and waved him to the front of the van. “You’ll need to sign the release. Officer Young will bring him out for you.” 

Sam wasn’t keen on leaving Dean alone with Officer Young but wasn’t willing to risk Johnson’s current goodwill towards them. He followed Johnson and signed the paperwork to release Dean from their custody, listening closely for anything untoward happening at the back.

“There’s a car too.” 

“The Impala?”

Johnson nodded. “You can pick it up from the station in the morning.” 

“Thank you. Is that everything?” Sam was keen to get Dean inside and find out what the hell was going on. It was the first time they’d seen each other in four years and in their family, surprises were never a good thing.

“Almost. That tattoo is out of date; you’ll need to get it fixed before you’ll be able to leave California.” 

“Of course.” 

“Then we’re good.” Johnson took the paperwork and slid into the van. 

The back door of the van slammed shut and Young dragged Dean forward towards them, using far more force than was clearly necessary. Sam went to intervene but Dean threw him a sharp look and he stopped himself. The officer wasn’t doing anything illegal and any fuss Sam made was more likely to come back down on Dean than him. 

Sam concentrated on keeping his temper in check as Young uncuffed Dean and the officers both got in the van and drove away. Dean stretched his arms out with a grimace as he was released. 

Not wanting to have this conversation where someone could overhear them, Sam jerked his head towards the door. “Let’s go inside.” 

Dean followed him, head down in the perfect show of submission that Sam detested. It was a stark reminder of what Dean was, the way that the world treated him, and it did nothing to calm his rising anger. He let them both into the house and headed straight for the kitchen, pulling a bag of peas from the freezer and wrapping it in a towel before handing it to Dean.

“Thanks.” Dean took the bundle and held it to his lip. There was red swelling developing around his eye as well. 

“What are you doing here?”

Dean grinned at him over the towel, far more relaxed now that they were in private. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“You were 400 miles away when they grabbed you.” 

“So it’s a pretty big neighborhood.”

“Dean, what the _hell_ are you doing here?”

Dean sighed. “We need to talk.” 

They were interrupted by the front door opening, and a few moments later Jess appeared in the doorway. 

“Sam?” Jess asked, looking over at the two of them in confusion.

“Jess!” Sam exclaimed in surprise. “I thought you were staying out late?”

“I thought I’d come and give you a hand. Didn’t realize you were expecting company” She gestured over towards Dean.

This wasn’t the way he planned to make introductions. Hell, if Sam was honest with himself, he’d never really planned for this to happen at all, but Jess and Dean were the two most important people in his life and it would have happened eventually. If Dad’s decades long revenge mission didn’t end up getting Dean killed first. 

Sam slipped an arm around Jess’s waist, “Jess, this is Dean. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

“Wait, your brother Dean?”

Dean raised an eyebrow in amusement at that and Sam shot him a look begging him to just go along with it. Jess’s feelings on the US slavery system were the same as Sam’s and he’d never admitted to her that his family not only supported it but his Dad had actually bought a child to raise his own son. The odd times that he’d mentioned Dean, Jess had assumed that he was Sam’s brother and he’d let her believe it. 

“The one and only.” Dean grinned. He put down the frozen peas; surreptitiously adjusting his shirt as he did so to make sure it covered his tattoo. “Look, I gotta borrow your boyfriend for a minute. Talk about some private family business.”

Jess’s face fell, and Sam swore to himself. This wasn’t going anything like as well as he’d hoped. He knew it had always bothered Jess how little he talked about his family, but he’d always tried to convince her that it didn’t mean anything, that she was the family he cared about. “No. Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of her.”

“Okay. Dad,” Dean emphasised the word with a small smirk, “hasn’t been home in a few days.” 

That wasn’t exactly unusual; Dad had regularly left him with Dean for days if not weeks at a time when he was a kid. Now he didn’t have Sam to think about, he wouldn’t be surprised if Dad just spent his entire life on the road. “So he’s working overtime on a Miller time shift, he’ll stumble home sooner or later.”

Dean sighed. “Dad’s on a _hunting_ trip. And he’s hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”

Crap. There was no other way around it. “Jess, could you please give us a minute?” 

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. “I’ll go get changed.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a quick kiss with a promise to make it up to her later. 

Once she’d gone and Sam heard the bedroom door close he turned back to Dean. “Spill. All of it.”

“Sure thing, bro.” Dean grinned again. Sam rolled his eyes; he was never going to live that one down.

“Dean. Where is Dad?”

“I told you, Sammy, I don’t know.” Dean’s gaze turned serious, he looked worried. 

Sam dropped onto the couch. “Okay, where did you last see him?”

“Down in New Orleans. We’d just finished up a job, this voodoo thing. He took a call, said he’d be back later and took off. Next day I got a voicemail message telling me to find you.” Dean pressed the peas back against his lip and winced. 

“Who was the call from?” 

Dean shrugged. “He didn’t say.” 

“You didn’t ask?” 

Dean snorted. It was a fair point; Dad hadn’t ever been one for explaining his orders. Sam put it down to his time as a marine. Not that it had stopped Sam from trying. 

“Guessing he’s not mellowed with age, huh?” 

“Good guess.” 

“Can I hear the message?” Not that he didn’t believe Dean, but it was the only lead they’d got.

“Sure.” Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and tossed it over. 

“Do you want to sit down? On the couch.” Sam added quickly, in case Dad had decided Dean needed permission for that now. He was glad when it didn’t seem to bother Dean who took a seat next to him as Sam flipped open the phone and found the voicemail.

The message was typically short. “Dean, it’s me. I’ve got a lead, you need to go and find Sam.” 

It was odd, hearing his Dad’s voice again for the first time in years. Even through all his anger at the man, Sam was sorry that they hadn’t spoken in so long. “How long ago was this?”

“Nearly a week. Took me a while to get passed all the checkpoints.” 

“Dude, you didn’t get passed all the checkpoints.” Although Sam was grateful that it was the California border Dean had been picked up on, if he’d been found half way across the country they may not have believed he hadn’t run. 

Dean threw him a fake look of hurt. “Hey, I made it through four states.” 

“Thankfully.” Anger flared up in him again. “I can’t believe Dad sent you all that way by yourself. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s fine.”

“You could have been killed, Dean!” Sam threw his hands up in frustration. It was bad enough that society barely cared for his welfare, but Sam at least wanted Dean to have some sense of his own self-preservation. 

“I could get killed on any job. Hunting’s a dangerous gig, Sammy, you know that.” Dean pointed out.

He was right, and it was one of the many things that Sam had argued with his Dad about. Dad had made the choice to hunt the thing that killed his Mom, but that didn’t give him the right to drag Sam and Dean into danger with him. Even trackers as good as John Winchester could one day become a victim of the very things they hunted.

“You could have come with me.” He said softly. He meant it just as much now as he had when he’d asked four years ago after he’d got the scholarship.

Dean answered the same way he had back then. “John would never have allowed it.”

“Well, you’re here now.” And not only had Dad allowed it, he’d ordered it. It would be hard, they’d need to find somewhere bigger to live and he’d have to explain everything to Jess but Sam knew that they could make it work.

But Dean was clearly having other ideas. “We need to find John, Sam. He’s in real trouble, I can feel it.” 

“Dad can take care of himself. If he needed backup, he wouldn’t have sent you here.” It’s not like he would have sent Dean away for his own protection.

“Unless he was worried about something coming after you.”

That stopped Sam as the image of the nightmare that had been haunting him all week came to mind. Jess pinned to the ceiling, covered in blood, dead eyes open and boring into Sam’s as the house burned around them. Murdered by a demon exactly the same way his Mom had been. 

Sam had put it down to nerves – about proposing, the interview, wondering if he could really escape his past and settle down in a normal life. What if it was something more? The thought terrified him, but if there was the slightest chance it was true, there was no way he could take off with Dean. He had to stay and protect Jess. 

He couldn’t admit the real reason to Dean so instead he played on Dean’s biggest weakness. “Then you’re here to protect me.”

Before Dean could respond he carried on. “Look, I have to stay here ‘til Monday. If he’s still out of contact then we’ll try and track him down. I’ll call Bobby and Pastor Jim.”

Dean didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue. “What’s happening Monday?”

“I have this...I have an interview on Monday.” Sam stumbled over the words a little, not sure why he was nervous at telling this to Dean.

“A job interview?” 

“It’s a law school interview, and it’s my whole future on a plate. I can’t miss this.” 

“Huh.” Dean stood and walked over to the kitchen, slipping the peas back into the freezer. By the time he returned, his face had been wiped clean of emotion. Sam’s heart sank and he realized how important it was to him that Dean approved of his life now.

“It’s getting late, we should get some sleep. We can go pick up the Impala in the morning.” He stood up and stretched. “I’d, uh, offer you the bed but I don’t think Jess would go for it.”

“The couch is fine, Sam.” Dean suddenly sounded tired and Sam didn’t think it was just down to the time.

“Great, there are sheets in the bottom drawer.” He went to leave but turned back when he reached the doorway. “It’s good to see you again, Dean.”

“You too, Sam.” 

*

The next morning Sam took Dean with him when he went to the Police Station to pick up the Impala. It was a sign of just how strained things had become between them that Dean didn’t make a comment as Sam led them to the bus stop. His scholarship covered a lot, but it definitely didn’t leave enough spare money for a car. 

Dean kept up with him as they left the house and waited for the bus, but he dropped a step behind as they made their way to the station. 

Sam tried to pretend like it didn’t bother him, the way that Dean was expected to act when they were in public, but he knew he wasn’t really pulling it off. 

Instead he focused on the task at hand, filling out the paperwork to retrieve the Impala, apologizing again for the previous night, promising that of course it would never happen again, and tried to forget that the law seemed to care more for the car than it did for the person standing behind him. There were certainly a lot more forms to fill in before the police clerk handed over the keys and led them to the back parking lot where the Impala was being stored.

Dean’s low sigh of relief when the car came into view undamaged made Sam grin.   
Legally, just like Dean, the Impala belonged to John Winchester, though Sam was on the registration for both of them. But Sam had stopped seeing the Impala as anything but Dean’s years ago. He loved it more than anything in the world, and if the law had allowed Dean to own a car, Sam would have signed it over to him without a second thought.

As it was, he’d just do the next best thing. “Here, catch.”

Dean’s hand shot out and caught the keys as Sam tossed them, looking slightly confused. He glanced over at the police clerk watching them. “You want me to drive, sir?” 

“Why not? Give me a chance to catch some z’s on the way home.” Because the only socially acceptable way to do something nice for Dean was to make it look as if he was acting for his own benefit.

“Thanks, sir.” 

“Let’s get going.” Sam was keen to get out of there and away from the watchful eye of the local police. 

Sam relaxed as Dean drove them out of the police parking lot and back towards the house. It felt so weird to be back in the Impala with Dean, like the years had rolled back and he’d never left. He guessed it was because this car was the closest thing he’d had to a steady home growing up, and he’d spent more time with Dean than he had with any of his biological family. 

Aware he was being watched; Dean leaned over and flipped on the cassette player. Metallica started blaring out of the speakers and Sam laughed. “Still not updated your cassette tape collection, huh?”

“Can’t beat the classics, Sammy.” 

Actually, Sam thought you could and that lots of bands had, and he’d definitely been subjected to Dean’s music often enough to feel qualified to comment. But there was something else he wanted to bring up instead of an argument he knew he’d never win.

“About this Sammy thing.” He started as Dean pulled up in front of the house.

“Yeah?”

“Can we drop it? I’m not a little kid anymore, it’s Sam.” 

Dean slowly put the Impala into park and then looked directly at Sam, his gaze serious. “You making that an order?” 

He couldn’t quite get a read on Dean’s emotions but Sam couldn’t help but feel like this was a test. Maybe to see how much his teenage ideals had survived the years at Stanford. Part of Sam was tempted to say yes, he’d never known Dean disobey a direct order and Sam could drop the hated nickname before any of his friends here picked it up. But he didn’t want to damage his relationship with Dean any more than he already had, so he shook his head. “No, just a request.” 

Dean smirked at him. “Then I’ll think about it.”

So no chance there, then. At least he could trust Jess not to use it, or Sam hoped he could. 

When they got inside, Luis had turned up and made himself at home on the couch.   
Sam was surprised to see him up, particularly this early on a Saturday. “Hey, how was last night?”

“Good, dude. Halloween is always a great night, even if my main wing man bailed.” He looked pointedly over at Sam.

“Sorry, man. I’ll make it up to you next weekend?” 

Luis leaned back against the cushions with a grin. “No bother, Jess called me; apparently you have family in town.” 

“And that’s more interesting than a night out?”

“Dude, you kidding?” Luis turned to Dean. “I have known this guy since he first turned up to college on a bus. In four years, has barely mentioned a word about his family, and now you’re here? Nowhere else I was gonna be.” 

Luis pushed himself up off the couch and held a hand out to Dean. “I’m Luis. Jess tells me your Sam’s brother?”

Dean’s gaze flicked briefly to Sam before he nodded. “Dean.”

“Good to meet you, dude. Now come sit down and tell me all about Sam when he was a kid. And don’t spare any of the embarrassing details.” Luis grinned. “I have several years of blackmail material to make up.” 

Sam saw Jess appear from the kitchen and mouth an apology at him. Possibly against his better judgement, he left Luis and Dean to it and joined her. “Hey.” 

“Hey. Sorry about Luis, I told him that your brother had stopped by and he was curious.” 

Sam couldn’t really blame them. There had been so many things about his childhood that had been difficult to explain that he had just avoided talking about it. “Not your fault. It’s just my Dad and I don’t really see eye to eye on things. We haven’t spoken since I came to Stanford.”

“And Dean?” 

Sam shrugged helplessly. This was why he avoided talking about it; every answer just produced more questions that he needed to lie about. “Dean is really loyal to Dad. Kinda hero worships the guy; I didn’t want to put him in the middle.” Or get him into trouble. Dad hadn’t been one for letting either of them sit around as children, he doubted that Dean had much free time on his hands as an adult. 

“Is he going to go look for your Dad?” 

Sam shook his head. “Not yet. He’s probably just up at the cabin, deer hunting and forgotten to switch on his phone. If he’s not back Monday then we’ll go up and bring him   
home then.”

“What about the interview?” She looked worried.

“We’ll go after the interview. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.” He captured her lips in a quick kiss. “Okay?”

She smiled. “Okay. I’m glad you’re getting to see your brother again.” 

“Me too.” It was good. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed Dean until he’d shown up last night. “What are you cooking? Smells good.”

“Well, we’ve got guests over, so I thought I’d do brunch.” She headed back into the kitchen and carried on cooking. “And since this is actually your family, you can help.”

“Seems fair.” Sam smiled.

“Good.” Jess pulled out a wooden spoon and slapped him on the ass with it. “Can I trust you not to burn the pancakes?” 

Not long afterwards, the four of them were sat around the table eating lunch. Even only a day ago, Sam wouldn’t have believed this would be happening. Luis had spent most of the time quizzing Dean on how Sam had been as a kid, and Dean looked like he was enjoying these stories just a little too much. He’d just made it on to Sam’s brief stint in drama club and Luis was lapping the whole lot up. Jess was looking far too amused as well; Sam had no-one on his side here. Apparently not bringing any family around for four years meant they would cram all the embarrassment into one trip. 

When the childhood stories finally relented, Jess spoke up. “So Dean, what is it that you do?”

“I help with the family business.” Dean responded easily. “Someone had to hold down the fort while Sam went off to college.” 

“There’s a family business?” 

Sam cringed but Dean just nodded. “Investigative work, mostly. You should have seen Sam, had a real knack for the research side of things.” 

“Hey Jess,” Sam cut in to try and change the subject. “Could you pass me the bacon?”

“I got it.” Dean lifted the plate and passed it over to him. 

As Dean pulled his arm back, Luis’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist, staring at the spot where Dean’s shirt had ridden up. Before either one of them could say anything, Luis pushed the shirt out of the way to reveal Dean’s tattoo. 

Dean froze, dropping his gaze but made no effort to pull out of Luis’ hold. 

“I – I can explain.” Sam stuttered out. 

Luis looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “He yours?”

“Kinda.” Sam admitted. “Dad, uh, got Dean after my Mom was killed. He needed someone to help look after me.” 

“Wouldn’t he have gone for someone who was older than you?”

Sam shrugged, “I don’t know, I was just a baby.” 

“Luis, let the poor guy go.” Jess spoke up for the first time. 

“Oh yeah, sorry man.” Luis released his hold on Dean, who pulled his arm back, but kept his head down. It was one thing to sit at a table and act like you were free when they never knew your status, but Sam had seen people act badly when they unexpectedly found out about Dean.

“Thank you, sir.”

“None of that, man. Far as I concerned that,” he waved a hand at the tattoo, “means nothing.”

Dean’s head came up and he regarded Luis closely for a moment. Then he gave a small smile. “Thanks.” 

“You don’t need to worry, Dean.” Jess smiled at him and begun stacking plates. “Sam, sweetie, could you give me a hand clearing up?”

Sam cringed at her tone, looks like he wasn’t getting off quite so easily. But it wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve it. He stacked a few plates and followed Jess out to the kitchen. Jess dropped her pile in the sink and then turned on him. “What the hell, Sam?” She hissed.

“I can explain.”   
Jess folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Go on then, I’m waiting. Let’s start with why you’ve always told me you hated the slave trade, when it turns out you actually own another person.”

“I do!” Sam ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down, he tried again. “You know I said that my Dad and I don’t always see eye to eye?”

Jess nodded. “Yeah.”

“This is one of those points where we don’t. When I was a kid I didn’t really know what being a slave was. I didn’t understand that Dean didn’t have a choice about staying with us, or following Dad’s orders. Part of the reason I hate the system is because I’ve seen what it can do. Where Dean might have ended up if Dad hadn’t found him.” 

Officially, there were laws that governed how slaves could be treated. In practice, most of them were not going to risk their own safety by reporting their owners, and few law enforcers would listen anyway. Sam had seen far too much mistreatment to have any faith in the current system. 

“What happened to his face?” Jess asked. The swelling around Dean’s eye had developed overnight and he was now sporting a black eye as well as the split lip. Both Jess and Luis had avoided mentioning it so far, but now Jess knew the truth about Dean, she was eying Sam suspiciously. 

“Wait, you think I did that?” Sam’s mouth fell open in shock. How could she possibly think that little of him? “I would never hurt Dean. Never.”

Apparent his horror at the idea had the desired effect, because Jess’s gaze softened slightly. “Then who did?”

Sam tried to remember how this all looked from her point of view. Most of what she knew about Sam’s childhood had been proved wrong in the last few hours and she was right to be suspicious. “Dad sent Dean here before he went missing. The cops picked him up trying to cross state lines by himself. He told them he was mine and they brought him here last night, one of them was violent. 

“So why lie to me?” Jess didn’t look as angry as she had a minute ago, but Sam got the feeling that he still needed to tread carefully. In the end he opted for the truth.  
“I wasn’t going to. But when you assumed he was my brother, it was just easier to let you keep thinking that. When I told Dad that I was coming to Stanford, he told me that if I was going to go, then I should just stay gone.” It was the first time he’d admitted to Jess exactly how bad things had been with his family. He could see sympathy starting to war with the anger in her eyes. “I’m sorry that I lied to you. I didn’t think you’d ever meet, so it would never be a problem.”

Jess pulled him into a hug. “Okay.” 

“You forgive me? That was easy.” They hadn’t had many arguments in their relationship. Most of Sam’s experience of family fights was with Dad, and they were never over that quickly unless one of them stormed out.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, you’re not out of the woods yet.” Jess gave him a tight squeeze. “But I can see why you did it. And Dean seems like a good guy – I can a lot of him in you.” 

“Well he should get at least 90% of the credit for raising me.” 

“Is Dean hanging around for a while then?” Jess pulled back from him and met his gaze. 

“Is that alright with you?” He wasn’t going to make the same mistake as earlier, this time Jess would know his plans right from the beginning. “Life with Dad… I think he’ll be safer here.” 

Jess tilted her head and thought about it for a moment. “Sure, but we’ll need a bigger place once you start law school. I’m not letting him crash on the couch permanently.”

He kissed her gently. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Well I can think of a few ways that you can make it up to me.” She smirked. “Now let’s get back out there before Luis finishes talking Dean’s ears off.”

*

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Luis had disappeared after lunch, after getting them all to agree for a night out the following weekend, Dean included. Since it was less than 48 hours until the interview, Sam really did need to study and had ended up shut up in his and Jess’ room with a pile of notes. Dean had assured him that it was fine, he wanted to give the Impala a quick once over anyway, make sure that the police hadn’t done any damage to it. 

By the time Sam emerged from his room the sun was starting to set. He found them both outside, Jess sitting on the grass as Dean was working under the hood of the Impala. Sam was about to step outside and join them when Jess started speaking. Sam knew he should alert them to his presence, but he was too curious to interrupt now.

“So, how long have you been with Sam?”

“Since ’83.” Dean replied without looking up from the Impala. “Sam was nearly nine months, until he left for Stanford.”

“You’re not much older than him, though?”

“About four years.” They didn’t know the exact difference, as Dean’s date of birth hadn’t been on his paperwork. When Sam had asked about it, Dad had explained that there were laws selling someone as young as Dean had been. The market he’d bought Dean from had flouted the law but covered their asses by leaving the dates off the paperwork. If they were caught, they’d face a fine for it, but nothing like they would be if the authorities had proof of them illegally selling children. Sam had insisted that Dean should have a birthday like the rest of them and had picked one for him. 

Jess let out a low whistle. “Why get someone that young to raise a baby?”

Dean shrugged. “Cheap. Easy to train.” 

Jess’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Easy to… fuck.” She visibly pulled herself together. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“S’alright. Not going to get at you for asking.” Dean kept his head down, barely glancing up from his work. 

“You did a great job with Sam, you know. You should be proud.” 

“Yeah, well.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, and even though it was nearly dark, Sam would’ve sworn that Dean was blushing. “He’s a good kid.”

Sam felt wrong intruding on their conversation any further, so he let the door fall closed loudly as he stepped outside to join them. “Hey. You guys alright?”

“Just thought I’d get to know Dean a bit better, if he’s going to be staying with us.” Jess stood up and brushed herself off. “I’ll go inside and get dinner started.” 

She gave Sam a quick peck on the cheek as she passed. He smiled, with the hope that being able to open up about something from his childhood would make their relationship stronger.

“Everything okay?” Sam gestured to the Impala once Jess had left. He doubted the police had looked that closely at the car, if they had he and Dean would still be at the station answering questions about the weapons in the hidden compartment of the trunk. But it didn’t hurt to check, and Dean was always meticulous when it came to Impala.

Dean closed the hood and wiped his hands on the rag from his tool kit. “Yeah, don’t think they messed with anything.”

“Need a hand clearing up?” 

Dean shook his head. “It’s cool, I got it.” 

Sam leaned against the car as Dean picked up the rest of his tools. “Hey, I’m sorry.” 

“For what?”

“For earlier. For not being honest with Jess about you. For not coming with you to look for Dad.” The hypocrisy wasn’t lost on Sam. He spent so much of his life berating Dad for not letting Dean have choices, and here he was doing the exact same thing.

“It’s fine, Sam, I get it.” Dean was suddenly very interested in organizing his toolbox. Dean had never been open about his feelings when Sam was younger, and he guessed that four years with only Dad for company had done nothing to change that. But just because Dean refused to discuss his feelings, didn’t mean he did have them. 

“You do?” 

“Look.” Dean let the toolbox lid fall shut. “You came to college to live a normal, apple-pie life. Telling them about me, about most of your childhood would have brought on too many questions. I get it.”

He didn’t sound happy about it though, and Sam felt a sharp pang of guilt. He hadn’t meant to hurt Dean when he left for college. The truth was he’d just been so desperate to get away from hunting, from Dad’s crusade for just a little while, that he hadn’t thought about what it would do to Dean. Dean who didn’t have a choice about staying or leaving, that Sam had left with a man who treated his son like a soldier, never mind his slave. 

“Do you ever wish that you’d ended up with someone else?” Sam couldn’t imagine that this was the life that Dean would have chosen for himself, but suddenly it was quite important to know how trapped Dean felt. 

“Not really.” Dean stored the toolbox in the back of the Impala and pulled the trunk closed. He was still avoiding looking at Sam. 

“Really, you’re completely okay with this life?” Hunting wasn’t a life that attracted that many people. Every hunter Sam had met got into it for the same reason; they’d lost someone to something supernatural and couldn’t go back to their old lives after finding out that monster didn’t just exist in stories. 

“It’s not a bad gig, Sam.” 

“But you could have ended up somewhere safe, somewhere normal.” 

“You’re really gonna make me do this, huh?” Dean rested his hands on the trunk and finally looked Sam directly in the eye. “Before John bought me, I was real scared about what was going to happen. I was just a kid, and I’d heard things, you know?” 

Sam nodded, but he didn’t interrupt as Dean continued. “There is no such thing as safe for someone like me, there’s always the risk of being sold, or worse – ” Dean raised a hand to stop Sam before he even had a chance to deny it “ – I know you wouldn’t, Sam, but it’s not up to you. But John, this life, it’s not so bad.” Dean dropped down onto the trunk. “Hunting evil, saving people, I get to make a real difference. I see proof every day of how much worse it could be, okay? So don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sam let out a deep breath as some of the guilt eased. At least Dean didn’t resent him for the way his life was. “You know that I’d free you if I could, right?”

“I know, Sammy.” Dean murmurs quietly. 

They stayed there in silence for a few moments, Sam struggling to find the words to spill everything to Dean. To open up about his nightmares to the one person he had here who understood what was really out there in the dark. But something held him back. Flashing him a grin, Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Didn’t your girlfriend say something about dinner?”

Later that night, as he was brushing his teeth, Sam wondered why he couldn’t bring himself to tell Dean about the nightmares. Maybe because telling Dean would mean admitting to himself that he was worried that they could mean something, and that thought was too terrifying to contemplate. 

Rinsing his mouth out, Sam stared at his exhausted reflection in the mirror. “This is ridiculous. They’re just dreams. They don’t mean anything.” He lectured himself. “Pull yourself together, man.” 

He wandered back to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Tomorrow the interview would be over, hopefully he would score a full ride and then the three of them could look for a new place. Jess wasn’t going to let Dean sleep on the couch for long; she was already incredibly protective of him. Sam smiled; Dean could do with some mothering. 

Something wet dripped onto his forehead and Sam swiped at it sleepily. Several more droplets followed and he forced his eyes open. His heart stopped as his eyes met Jess’s, her gaze dead and unseeing as she was sprawled across the ceiling. Blood dripped from the gash that tore across her stomach, the metallic smell mixing with the stench of sulphur in the air. 

This was far more vivid than any of the times he’d seen this scene before, and Sam’s entire world disintegrated as it suddenly dawned on him why this didn’t feel like the other dreams.

He was still wide awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd, as I don't know anyone in this fandom anymore!


End file.
